


Say It Louder

by onetiredboy



Series: Jay's Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Angst, But also some fluff because I'm a weak man, HoH Nureyev, Hurt/Comfort, Other, vespa being sick of their bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23681992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onetiredboy/pseuds/onetiredboy
Summary: A story about Peter Nureyev and his hearing.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Series: Jay's Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690075
Comments: 22
Kudos: 220





	Say It Louder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluejorts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejorts/gifts).



> as a disclaimer, i'm not HoH and open to constructive criticism if it's needed! i didn't have time to get it sensitivity read :') 
> 
> also once again, a bullshit title cause idk how to title things JHDSJHDG

It goes like this.

“Ransom!” Nureyev hears. He’s a second away from cracking a safe, one half of a stethoscope in one ear so he can hear the gentle clicks.

Then the end of a blaster slams into his temple.

Nureyev’s vision goes black. A lurch of nausea unsettles him and he thinks he might collapse onto his hands and knees. For a long moment, he loses track of himself. Then, slowly, with a sickening feeling in his stomach, his vision starts crawling back. As it returns, Nureyev feels a heavy, suffocating feeling settle over him like a heavy blanket, and fear spikes through him like a shard of ice.

He knows the feeling straight away. It’s been a long time, but he hasn’t forgotten what being near-deaf feels like.

He puts a hand to his temple. The skin isn’t broken, but the high-tech chip that augments his hearing must be. Shit. Nureyev backs himself up until his back is against a wall, and pulls himself to his feet. He can’t be crept up on like this, not as long as he doesn’t lose sight of the room around him.

The thug that struck him is on the floor, and Vespa looks towards him and barks something at him. Nureyev’s heart pounds. He doesn’t want to speak, doesn’t trust his voice like this, as though somehow not being able to hear will give his voice permission to say things unchecked.

He must look as stupid as he feels. Vespa narrows her eyes at him and says it again. Nureyev blinks, then nods slowly. She frowns at him.

Juno comes rushing around the corner. His shoulders fall when he sees Nureyev safe, and he says something. Nureyev tries to follow his lips, but that particular skill obviously slipped through the cracks several years ago. He keeps his own pressed shut.

If he could just get himself to speak, he could say something – anything – just to get the attention off of him. He can’t afford having Vespa know this detail about him – that a well aimed blow to a tiny little chip behind his ear turns him as good as defenceless. But when he tries, his throat is too tight. He has to calm his breathing, he thinks, but that’s a little hard when he’s already lightheaded and he keeps gasping down more air out of instinct.

Then Juno’s hands are on him, and Nureyev feels sick again. Juno holds him back so they’re at arms length from each other, and asks him something. Nureyev doesn’t know what to do. He shakes his head.

And then Juno steps back, and says, “Can you hear me?” Not with his voice, but with his hands. And all the air comes rushing back into the room.

Nureyev thinks he laughs. He closes his eyes for a moment, so _relieved_ is he that Juno Steel exists. He hasn’t needed to in a long time, but his fingers still remember how to form the words. “No,” he signs back, “My hearing aid is broken.” He reaches out to grab Juno as he turns, and adds, “Please don’t tell Vespa.”

Juno looks up to meet his eyes, a question written across his face. But he nods, and turns again.

He and Vespa have a conversation. Nureyev tries to catch glimpses, but they speak too fast, and then Vespa nods and runs off.

Juno turns back to him. “Jet’s going to finish off the lock. You and I are going to lay low until it’s safe to get back to the space boat.” He finishes that sign with an awkward shrug, “Don’t know the sign for that.”

Their conversation has to be put on hold for a while after that. Juno starts walking down the hall, gesturing for Nureyev to follow.

Nureyev takes a few steps out. Every hair on his body stands on end. Turning his back on the hallway beyond which the rest of the Carte Blanche crew struggle with a security team is too much, and so he turns so he’s walking backwards, eyes trained on the entrance. He feels like he’s on ice-skates – one false step from tripping.

Then all of his fears come true at once. A hand lands on his shoulder and Nureyev drops to the ground so fast his stomach drops. He has his knife in his hand when he spins around to strike up at—Juno, oh God, it’s just Juno.

Nureyev trembles so hard he almost loses his balance and falls onto his face on the floor. He puts a hand down to steady himself, and breathes.

Juno crouches down in front of him, and with a moment to calm his racing heartbeat, Nureyev looks at him.

“I’m so sorry,” Juno signs, “Are you okay?”

Nureyev watches him a second more before he pulls himself back to his feet, Juno following suit.

“No,” he signs, “I’m terrified.”

It’s embarrassingly easy to be honest with Juno like this. Without talking, he doesn’t have to suffer the ordeal of hearing how pathetic he sounds out loud. And signing is more private – his words are for Juno’s eyes only, have no risk of being overheard through thin Carte Blanche walls.

Juno’s face scrunches, “I shouldn’t have left you. Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Nureyev assures him.

Juno nods, and then hesitantly offers an arm. Nureyev takes it. He doesn’t notice he’s pressing in so close until Juno physically stumbles to the side a little with how hard Nureyev pushes.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, out loud, with his actual voice, and Juno squeezes his arm.

They make it to a supply closet, and Juno opens the door, checks down the hallway, and then ushers them both inside. He finds the light and switches it on.

“You okay?” he signs.

Nureyev nods, and sits himself on the floor. Juno sits down beside him, and puts his hand on Nureyev’s knee.

Nureyev leans his head on Juno’s shoulder without thinking. His heart is still racing, and he can’t take his eyes off of the door, watching for a change in the light coming through the crack at the bottom.

With the time and quiet focus to reflect, Nureyev realises why his hearing feels a little odd, still. Usually without his hearing aid, he can still hear, albeit not very well. But the particular way it broke has left him with a soft, fuzzing white noise that drowns out everything else.

It’s not at all comforting. That chip was incredibly high-range, very powerful, and was covert enough to hide this… particular flaw from anyone who noticed, unless they’d gotten close enough to see the little scar in his skin, and could somehow recognise the incision.

But powerful things often break powerfully, and Nureyev has no way of knowing the kind of damage a broken chip fizzing away in the background of his brain will do to him.

The world gets heavy again. What if the chip is irreplaceable? If the nerves in his brain have been damaged a new chip may not be able to integrate smoothly. He may be reduced to using an external aid, a permanent dent in his invisibility. Or worse, perhaps his hearing will never be restored. A thief without his hearing is severely, if not irrevocably, handicapped. If not repaired, this simple mistake could be the end of his career – and with no career, there’s no reason for Buddy to keep him hanging around, and there’s no future for Peter Nureyev if he’s stranded. _How_ could he have let this happen – how could he let his _whole life_ be threatened because of a _stupid—?_

Juno shifts and takes his hand from Nureyev’s knee. He shifts so that he’s looking right at him, “Hey. Are you okay? What can I do?”

“I don’t know,” Nureyev signs, and bites back a sudden wave of emotion. His fingers shake slightly when he continues, “I haven’t been this scared in years.”

He sees Juno’s lips part, and sees the movement of his shoulders and chest, even if he doesn’t hear the pained sound he knows he makes.

“Can I hug you?” Juno signs. Nureyev almost laughs – trust Juno to so cautiously offer what Nureyev has been aching for for weeks.

He nods, and then Juno moves. Nureyev almost gasps when Juno swings one leg over his and settles down in his lap. Juno tucks close, pressing his face to Nureyev’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around his torso.

Juno’s arms are warm around him, and he holds him just short of too tight. Nureyev can feel the fan of Juno’s breath against his shoulder, the movement of his body as he breathes.

Nureyev closes his eyes, and wraps his arms around Juno’s back.

The fuzzing in his ears gets louder when he has nothing else to concentrate on. So instead, he bunches his hands in the back of Juno’s shirt and feels the way the fabric brushes between his fingers. He breathes in Juno’s smell. With his eyes closed, he’s even more afraid that they could be apprehended any second – but he has to let that go. He has to trust Juno to hear for the two of them.

Juno talks with his hands, now, but not in sign. He talks with the slow, repetitive way he rubs Nureyev’s back, and his message is loud and clear. Nureyev squeezes his eyes shut tight. He still trusts Juno Steel. So he tugs him closer, and holds, and holds, and holds.

Juno leans back in Nureyev’s arms after a while. “Feeling better?” he signs.

Nureyev’s almost compelled to sign ‘no’, just to get Juno to keep holding him. He’s not ready for this to end yet, for the two of them to go back to their careful non-touching. But the idea of deceiving Juno for his affection is sickening, so Nureyev signs back, “Much. Thank you.”

Juno doesn’t move from his lap, though. He just quirks him a little crooked smile and signs, “Between your hearing and my vision, we’d make a perfect couple.”

Nureyev’s heart thuds against his ribs. He runs cold head to toe, and then Juno’s eyes widen.

“That’s not the word I meant,” he signs, “I’m sorry, I meant—” and starts fingerspelling something.

Nureyev catches those hands before he can finish the word, and pulls them to his mouth. He presses his lips to Juno’s knuckles, rough and warm under his mouth, and kisses. When he glances up, Juno shoots him a little smile.

Nureyev smiles back. He leans up, and feels Juno’s breath hitch against in just a second before Nureyev presses a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Juno,” he says out loud, as quietly as he can. He manages to hold back the panic attack until he’s let Juno’s hands drop from his and is leaning back against the wall again.

He tries to keep himself from trembling when Juno lifts a hand to brush the hair at the side of Nureyev’s face. Juno watches the place where his fingers meet Nureyev’s hair. After a moment, his gaze slides to meet Nureyev’s.

They look at each other. There’s a gentle thrum of tension in Nureyev’s chest.

Juno swallows. Nureyev’s eyes are drawn to the movement of his Adam’s apple, bobbing softly in his neck, and then they trace back up to his face.

Nureyev sees Juno sigh, and he adjusts himself on Nureyev’s lap. The hand on the side of Nureyev’s face flattens slightly, to cup his cheek. Juno hovers closer.

Nureyev is unable to move. Like a deer in the headlights; he’s afraid a single twitch will shatter the moment. Juno moves closer so slowly, clearly giving Nureyev a chance to change his mind.

Juno stops so close that his breath fans over Nureyev’s lips. Nureyev brushes one of his hands around from Juno’s back up his chest. He stops with his hand on the side of Juno’s neck.

“Juno,” he breathes.

And Juno presses lips against Nureyev’s.

It’s so light and scarce, it could barely be considered a kiss. But when Juno tries to pull away, Nureyev chases him forwards, and kisses him hard.

He feels the sound Juno makes against his chest. Juno presses him back into the wall and kisses him until Nureyev’s lungs burn. Nureyev opens his mouth and Juno shudders into him. He doesn’t care that he can’t breathe – he doesn’t want to, if this is the alternative.

In a second, he does have to break to heave a few breaths, and his chest shudders with his laughter. Juno laughs too, and his eye is shining and wet. Nureyev pulls him into another kiss, opening his mouth and sliding his fingers into Juno’s hair. Juno presses him back and slips his tongue between Nureyev’s teeth, and Nureyev goes light-headed and runs hot all at once.

The door to the room opens.

Nureyev jumps almost out of his skin, and it’s a good thing Juno pulls away as fast as he does or else he would’ve been in genuine danger of having his tongue bitten off. Vespa, in the doorway, contorts her face into pure disgust.

And Nureyev starts laughing.

He can’t stop – it’s the pure adrenaline, both from kissing Juno and the relief it’s only Vespa that interrupted them.

A second later he feels Juno’s body start to shake with laughter against him, though he’s clearly trying to hold it back. Through blurry vision, he sees Vespa’s mouth twitch like she’s trying hard not to smile. Then she rolls her eyes, snaps something, and leaves the room.

Juno falls into Nureyev’s chest and keeps laughing. There are tears in Nureyev’s eyes, and he presses his face into Juno’s curls and tries to calm himself down.

Juno leans back eventually, and then sweeps in to press a quick kiss to his lips. Then he stands up, off of Nureyev. “Ready to go?” he signs, and holds a hand down.

“I suppose we better,” Nureyev takes it, though he doubts his knees will hold.

Juno links their arms, and leads them out of the room.

* * *

Nureyev wakes up one sense at a time.

First he feels the blankets up around his shoulders, the uncomfortably thin mattress underneath him, and the dull ache in his temple. Next, the smell of antiseptic and medical material, and the dry taste in his mouth. He cracks his eyes open and sees the ceiling of the Carte Blanche.

He stops one sense short.

There’s a heavy feeling in Nureyev’s heart when he pushes himself up to sit in the bed. He knows the surgery was only to remove the broken chip, but he has a sinking feeling about the post-op news to come, let alone his being hard of hearing becoming public knowledge, even among people he trusts.

The fuzzing is gone, at least. Nureyev clicks his fingers a few times, and breathes out a sigh of relief when he can just faintly make out the sound. No damage, then, hopefully.

The door opens, and Juno and Vespa walk in.

When Nureyev’s eyes alight on Juno, the world changes. Gravity stops, for a moment, and he’s floating. He feels a grin pull across his face, and Juno’s furrowed eyebrows relax on his face when he meets his eyes.

Juno walks to the side of the bed, fists a hand into Nureyev’s hospital gown, and pulls him down into a long, slow kiss.

When he parts, Juno’s eyes stay closed for a moment. The corner of his mouth twitches, and then his nose wrinkles.

Nureyev laughs, and Juno’s eyes open to see Nureyev sign, “How do post-surgery kisses taste?”

“Awful,” Juno signs back.

Vespa barks something just on the fringe of Nureyev’s hearing, and Juno turns to look at her. They have a short conversation and then Juno turns back, “I’m going to leave you so Vespa can check up on you.”

Nureyev nods, and straightens his posture. “When I get out of here,” he signs, “I am going to pin you to the mattress and keep you there for hours.”

A slow, wicked grin spreads across Juno’s face. “In that case,” he signs, “I’ll be in my room, thinking about you.”

He turns and saunters out of the room. Nureyev enjoys the view for as long as he can, a grin plastered to his face. Then he turns to Vespa, and his grin drops.

Vespa stares back at him, unimpressed. Then she moves her hands, and a part of Nureyev dies on the spot.

“You guys know I can sign, right?”

* * *

**BONUS:** A GIF of Nureyev signing 'Juno, I love you', and a furiously blushing Juno signing 'I love you' back. I owe SerAtlantisite my life for this, so[ go flood it with likes and reblogs on tumblr!](https://seratlantisite.tumblr.com/post/615607924206780416/everyone-should-check-out-say-it-louder-by)

**Author's Note:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo Prompt #2: Ear Injury. Hope you enjoyed! If you came from twitter, consider retweeting it if you liked it. If you didn't, consider yelling at me on twitter! @onetiredb0y.


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